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Julie dear: I meant to see you after class on Thursday if I could, but girls took up all the time. I landed to find the moving mess all anticipated, and have just finished — the moving itself, the landlord and the lease question are far from settled!
You and Miss Bridgman (with whom there had been no appropriate occasion to be confidential) are the only people I feel I know well enough in character and opinion to trust to be fair to the uttermost in every situation. Do you remember you had assumed (apropos nothing) that I was on full pay and supposed to do a full month's work? I told you I (and the girls) did a full month's work, for our own satisfaction, but that the arrangement was hot for me to do a month’s work in two weeks in a technical sense.
Well, since I arrived here the suggestion has been made to me, in the form of friendly inquiry (and so meant by the person who said it) that I have not been giving my allotted time at Skidmore. Mind you this suggestion has come only as follows: "Where do you get all these vacations?" But as that remark came from someone who knows those at Skidmore I feel certain, alas, that it echoed gossip to this effect.
May I give you the facts to be there if ever called for? I am supposed to give at least a fortnight a month to Skidmore, the odd days in the division of the month to be alotted [sic] to me or Skidmore, contingent on how week-ends and the work itself develops.
In February (the first month on this time, and pay), I divided the month equally, leaving New York on Feb l4th and Skidmore on Feb 28th after classes (my last Tuesday class is from one to two). In March I remained in New York from the night of Feb 28th when I arrived to the morning of March 7th, when I left New York but arrived at Saratoga too late for Tuesday class.
I again left Skidmore on March 22nd, two days before your own vacation, which began, as I recall It, on March 24th. Skidmore was not in session (if I am correct) between larch 24th and April 4th. I returned to Skidmore in April four days after school had been resumed, considering this extra four days fair in that I had not missed, school during vacation. That is to say, I took a few days In March and a few In April to make up the March week I did not take the first of March. I thus had three solid weeks for writing, and did this by preference as it seemed to fit the vacation and served my work better than if I had stayed away two weeks in the beginning of March. . . I expected then to remain at Skidmore from Tuesday April 11th to the afternoon of April 26th, after my Wednesday afternoon class, which is from two to three. You know of my flat and my telegrams from Jig. My Friday classes re all afternoon; I use Saturdays for conferences (use them, too, please believe). The freshmen I have in two groups on Friday would not come to classes because of the prom; the seniors did not want conferences for the same reason. I decided to go to New York (naturally the extra trip is at my own expense) on Friday and return Sunday morning. I did, . . I wanted to make up the day lost (though no classes were lost) by staying over until Friday, but I am having a landlord quarrel about the lease and legally one day Into the new month may make one liable for the whole month's rent. Monday is May Day. The storage company was very rushed and I had either to move on Frida or not move until Tuesday. I therefore asked girls in my morning and afternoon senior groups to come if possible to the morning class, all of them together. Only two or three were unable to get there because of schedule; I saw all the rest due on Thursday on Thursday morning, and took the 3:21 train to New York. I moved yesterday all but bits which I moved this morning. . . My next time to return to Skidmore is, by precise count of fourteen days, on Friday the 12th. If I come back then, I will probably find the same situation as before, May day and no classes.
Two days work on my book means a great deal to me (I shant be able to write next week), it means very little to the girls so occupied to have me there on Friday. I thought of returning on Sunday the l4th. Though my exam is scheduled
(over
[page 2]
for May 24th afternoon, and though I do not, for various practical reasons, want to stay through commencement, I cannot possibly leave Skidmore until a week after exams. I have not only examination paper s (which at Christmas — Jan I mean took me four days; but I shall have two sets of stories made on the plot idea which I am using as a test of psychological realism in fiction. The girls have exchanged plots with each other and are now to write in the first person. I cannot take in these papers until each gin has ''one her own version of what the other wrote of her. That means sixty-six "plot" stories to revise. Additionally I have asked each girl to hand in either six poems or a new short story, never seen by me, which will be in her estimation the best writing of which she is now capable. All these have to be corrected before grades are given. I, also mean to write for each girl to show her parents a note estimating her literary possibilities. (This really to interest parents in any gins who have shown real talent, though all will get reports of some sort.)
If I get through this program in less than sixteen days (classes as usual up to exams of course), with ninety-nine book reports to do on top of that, I shall be surprised. So I haven't felt too badly in considering not leaving here until the day after May Day instead of the day before.
Dear Julie, if you feel there is any occasion, you are at perfect liberty to show Miss Bridgman this letter. I leave it to you as to whether anything at all need appropriately be said. But as I will explain when I see you I am perfectly certain that my itinerary has been criticized somewhere, because this query made by, as it were, a "bystander" could only have occurred because some such criticism had been suggested elsewhere.
God bless you, and forgive me for the too practical and selfish turn of my feeling of - friendship whenever I am so worried. Trust is a compliment, but drawing on it so often does seem rather primitive.
Love to you with all my heart. Please give my affectionate greetings to Miss Bridgman and all my "table." I am crazy about Grace Cocroft [sic], too, but she can't make up her mind about me yet — because she is all Puritan and I am only half Puritan. If she knew me a very long time, she would, I think, because she is too darn full of integrity for that to do less than rule the resistances I would call "prejudice." In short she is a dear.
But that last paragraph is for you — you better only read this letter out, if you want to for any reason — not show it.
Yours with all the usual inevitable indiscretion,
evelyn

Julie dear: I meant to see you after class on Thursday if I could, but girls took up all the time. I landed to find the moving mess all anticipated, and have just finished — the moving itself, the landlord and the lease question are far from settled!
You and Miss Bridgman (with whom there had been no appropriate occasion to be confidential) are the only people I feel I know well enough in character and opinion to trust to be fair to the uttermost in every situation. Do you remember you had assumed (apropos nothing) that I was on full pay and supposed to do a full month's work? I told you I (and the girls) did a full month's work, for our own satisfaction, but that the arrangement was hot for me to do a month’s work in two weeks in a technical sense.
Well, since I arrived here the suggestion has been made to me, in the form of friendly inquiry (and so meant by the person who said it) that I have not been giving my allotted time at Skidmore. Mind you this suggestion has come only as follows: "Where do you get all these vacations?" But as that remark came from someone who knows those at Skidmore I feel certain, alas, that it echoed gossip to this effect.
May I give you the facts to be there if ever called for? I am supposed to give at least a fortnight a month to Skidmore, the odd days in the division of the month to be alotted [sic] to me or Skidmore, contingent on how week-ends and the work itself develops.
In February (the first month on this time, and pay), I divided the month equally, leaving New York on Feb l4th and Skidmore on Feb 28th after classes (my last Tuesday class is from one to two). In March I remained in New York from the night of Feb 28th when I arrived to the morning of March 7th, when I left New York but arrived at Saratoga too late for Tuesday class.
I again left Skidmore on March 22nd, two days before your own vacation, which began, as I recall It, on March 24th. Skidmore was not in session (if I am correct) between larch 24th and April 4th. I returned to Skidmore in April four days after school had been resumed, considering this extra four days fair in that I had not missed, school during vacation. That is to say, I took a few days In March and a few In April to make up the March week I did not take the first of March. I thus had three solid weeks for writing, and did this by preference as it seemed to fit the vacation and served my work better than if I had stayed away two weeks in the beginning of March. . . I expected then to remain at Skidmore from Tuesday April 11th to the afternoon of April 26th, after my Wednesday afternoon class, which is from two to three. You know of my flat and my telegrams from Jig. My Friday classes re all afternoon; I use Saturdays for conferences (use them, too, please believe). The freshmen I have in two groups on Friday would not come to classes because of the prom; the seniors did not want conferences for the same reason. I decided to go to New York (naturally the extra trip is at my own expense) on Friday and return Sunday morning. I did, . . I wanted to make up the day lost (though no classes were lost) by staying over until Friday, but I am having a landlord quarrel about the lease and legally one day Into the new month may make one liable for the whole month's rent. Monday is May Day. The storage company was very rushed and I had either to move on Frida or not move until Tuesday. I therefore asked girls in my morning and afternoon senior groups to come if possible to the morning class, all of them together. Only two or three were unable to get there because of schedule; I saw all the rest due on Thursday on Thursday morning, and took the 3:21 train to New York. I moved yesterday all but bits which I moved this morning. . . My next time to return to Skidmore is, by precise count of fourteen days, on Friday the 12th. If I come back then, I will probably find the same situation as before, May day and no classes.
Two days work on my book means a great deal to me (I shant be able to write next week), it means very little to the girls so occupied to have me there on Friday. I thought of returning on Sunday the l4th. Though my exam is scheduled
(over
[page 2]
for May 24th afternoon, and though I do not, for various practical reasons, want to stay through commencement, I cannot possibly leave Skidmore until a week after exams. I have not only examination paper s (which at Christmas — Jan I mean took me four days; but I shall have two sets of stories made on the plot idea which I am using as a test of psychological realism in fiction. The girls have exchanged plots with each other and are now to write in the first person. I cannot take in these papers until each gin has ''one her own version of what the other wrote of her. That means sixty-six "plot" stories to revise. Additionally I have asked each girl to hand in either six poems or a new short story, never seen by me, which will be in her estimation the best writing of which she is now capable. All these have to be corrected before grades are given. I, also mean to write for each girl to show her parents a note estimating her literary possibilities. (This really to interest parents in any gins who have shown real talent, though all will get reports of some sort.)
If I get through this program in less than sixteen days (classes as usual up to exams of course), with ninety-nine book reports to do on top of that, I shall be surprised. So I haven't felt too badly in considering not leaving here until the day after May Day instead of the day before.
Dear Julie, if you feel there is any occasion, you are at perfect liberty to show Miss Bridgman this letter. I leave it to you as to whether anything at all need appropriately be said. But as I will explain when I see you I am perfectly certain that my itinerary has been criticized somewhere, because this query made by, as it were, a "bystander" could only have occurred because some such criticism had been suggested elsewhere.
God bless you, and forgive me for the too practical and selfish turn of my feeling of - friendship whenever I am so worried. Trust is a compliment, but drawing on it so often does seem rather primitive.
Love to you with all my heart. Please give my affectionate greetings to Miss Bridgman and all my "table." I am crazy about Grace Cocroft [sic], too, but she can't make up her mind about me yet — because she is all Puritan and I am only half Puritan. If she knew me a very long time, she would, I think, because she is too darn full of integrity for that to do less than rule the resistances I would call "prejudice." In short she is a dear.
But that last paragraph is for you — you better only read this letter out, if you want to for any reason — not show it.
Yours with all the usual inevitable indiscretion,
evelyn

Julie dear: I meant to see you after class on Thursday if I could, but girls took up all the time. I landed to find the moving mess all anticipated, and have just finished — the moving itself, the landlord and the lease question are far from settled!
You and Miss Bridgman (with whom there had been no appropriate occasion to be confidential) are the only people I feel I know well enough in character and opinion to trust to be fair to the uttermost in every situation. Do you remember you had assumed (apropos nothing) that I was on full pay and supposed to do a full month's work? I told you I (and the girls) did a full month's work, for our own satisfaction, but that the arrangement was hot for me to do a month’s work in two weeks in a technical sense.
Well, since I arrived here the suggestion has been made to me, in the form of friendly inquiry (and so meant by the person who said it) that I have not been giving my allotted time at Skidmore. Mind you this suggestion has come only as follows: "Where do you get all these vacations?" But as that remark came from someone who knows those at Skidmore I feel certain, alas, that it echoed gossip to this effect.
May I give you the facts to be there if ever called for? I am supposed to give at least a fortnight a month to Skidmore, the odd days in the division of the month to be alotted [sic] to me or Skidmore, contingent on how week-ends and the work itself develops.
In February (the first month on this time, and pay), I divided the month equally, leaving New York on Feb l4th and Skidmore on Feb 28th after classes (my last Tuesday class is from one to two). In March I remained in New York from the night of Feb 28th when I arrived to the morning of March 7th, when I left New York but arrived at Saratoga too late for Tuesday class.
I again left Skidmore on March 22nd, two days before your own vacation, which began, as I recall It, on March 24th. Skidmore was not in session (if I am correct) between larch 24th and April 4th. I returned to Skidmore in April four days after school had been resumed, considering this extra four days fair in that I had not missed, school during vacation. That is to say, I took a few days In March and a few In April to make up the March week I did not take the first of March. I thus had three solid weeks for writing, and did this by preference as it seemed to fit the vacation and served my work better than if I had stayed away two weeks in the beginning of March. . . I expected then to remain at Skidmore from Tuesday April 11th to the afternoon of April 26th, after my Wednesday afternoon class, which is from two to three. You know of my flat and my telegrams from Jig. My Friday classes re all afternoon; I use Saturdays for conferences (use them, too, please believe). The freshmen I have in two groups on Friday would not come to classes because of the prom; the seniors did not want conferences for the same reason. I decided to go to New York (naturally the extra trip is at my own expense) on Friday and return Sunday morning. I did, . . I wanted to make up the day lost (though no classes were lost) by staying over until Friday, but I am having a landlord quarrel about the lease and legally one day Into the new month may make one liable for the whole month's rent. Monday is May Day. The storage company was very rushed and I had either to move on Frida or not move until Tuesday. I therefore asked girls in my morning and afternoon senior groups to come if possible to the morning class, all of them together. Only two or three were unable to get there because of schedule; I saw all the rest due on Thursday on Thursday morning, and took the 3:21 train to New York. I moved yesterday all but bits which I moved this morning. . . My next time to return to Skidmore is, by precise count of fourteen days, on Friday the 12th. If I come back then, I will probably find the same situation as before, May day and no classes.
Two days work on my book means a great deal to me (I shant be able to write next week), it means very little to the girls so occupied to have me there on Friday. I thought of returning on Sunday the l4th. Though my exam is scheduled
(over
[page 2]
for May 24th afternoon, and though I do not, for various practical reasons, want to stay through commencement, I cannot possibly leave Skidmore until a week after exams. I have not only examination paper s (which at Christmas — Jan I mean took me four days; but I shall have two sets of stories made on the plot idea which I am using as a test of psychological realism in fiction. The girls have exchanged plots with each other and are now to write in the first person. I cannot take in these papers until each gin has ''one her own version of what the other wrote of her. That means sixty-six "plot" stories to revise. Additionally I have asked each girl to hand in either six poems or a new short story, never seen by me, which will be in her estimation the best writing of which she is now capable. All these have to be corrected before grades are given. I, also mean to write for each girl to show her parents a note estimating her literary possibilities. (This really to interest parents in any gins who have shown real talent, though all will get reports of some sort.)
If I get through this program in less than sixteen days (classes as usual up to exams of course), with ninety-nine book reports to do on top of that, I shall be surprised. So I haven't felt too badly in considering not leaving here until the day after May Day instead of the day before.
Dear Julie, if you feel there is any occasion, you are at perfect liberty to show Miss Bridgman this letter. I leave it to you as to whether anything at all need appropriately be said. But as I will explain when I see you I am perfectly certain that my itinerary has been criticized somewhere, because this query made by, as it were, a "bystander" could only have occurred because some such criticism had been suggested elsewhere.
God bless you, and forgive me for the too practical and selfish turn of my feeling of - friendship whenever I am so worried. Trust is a compliment, but drawing on it so often does seem rather primitive.
Love to you with all my heart. Please give my affectionate greetings to Miss Bridgman and all my "table." I am crazy about Grace Cocroft [sic], too, but she can't make up her mind about me yet — because she is all Puritan and I am only half Puritan. If she knew me a very long time, she would, I think, because she is too darn full of integrity for that to do less than rule the resistances I would call "prejudice." In short she is a dear.
But that last paragraph is for you — you better only read this letter out, if you want to for any reason — not show it.
Yours with all the usual inevitable indiscretion,
evelyn